7 Months
by ThatsNotAName
Summary: They're both slowly fading away. Becoming shadows of the selves they used to be. They still love each other, it just takes a little more time then it should.


7 months. That's how long it'd been since Santana had had sex. Or well, since she'd had sex that was worth it. Okay, so basically it had been 7 months since she'd had sex with _Brittany_. Not that she was acknowledging that fact at all. Especially since it was three weeks into the summer and Brittany was _still_ dating the Legless Wonder. Not to mention that Santana had a new man around these days too. And no, it wasn't Puck, Sam, Finn or Karovsky.

It was the new pool-boy her Dad had hired after Puckerman got sent to juvie. His name was Taylor, he was older than the Glee boys by two years and had a tan and abs that would reduce Sam to tears. It helped that Taylor was in college, could think beyond his dick, and had read Little Women (because let's face it, she's secretly read that book too many times to count). The boy could hold a conversation, which was great seeing as she and Brittany had barely spoken since Artie came into the picture, Quinn had gone all _Without a Trace_ at the beginning of the summer, and Santana was now out of the Cheerios uniform and not having to pretend that she's shallow. Not to mention the pool-boy had picked up on her love of Breadsticks and took her there every time they 'hung out'.

All in all, it was sort of a great deal. And it would've been perfect if Santana actually _liked_ the sex. But she didn't. Before Taylor, she just figured all boys in high school were useless in the sheets, but now that she'd graduated to college boys it was beyond disappointing to see that nothing had changed (also something she wasn't willing to acknowledge). She'd taken to faking it, because unlike the jocks at McKinley, Taylor actually _wanted_ to get her off and wouldn't blow his load until he believed she had. It was nice to think he didn't want to leave her high and dry, but she just couldn't reach it without shutting her eyes and pretending it was someone else.

Only problem was, she couldn't do that either. No, she'd strictly banned herself from thinking of blonde haired, blue eyed dancer's full stop. Let alone in bed. So basically, Santana was a messy, tightly-wound ball of sexual frustration. And it was starting to get to her.

X

Things had gotten so bad that her parents had moved her out into the pool house. Like, true Ryan from The OC styles. Apparently they'd got tired of her slamming everything, being snappier than usual, using all the water in her ridiculously long (cold) showers and screaming Spanish at kitchen appliances when they wouldn't work fast enough.

That's was where she was now, the pool house. Or rather, her room as of three weeks ago. It was nearing 10pm, the heat was making her stick to the sheets and the light breeze coming through her large, open windows were doing nothing to cool her off. Santana considered just diving into the pool that rested 8ft from her door but decided against it. Chlorine in her hair was something she was not willing to deal with at this point in time.

So being blessed with a locked door, a laptop, and unlimited internet access in a batch situated 20metres from her house, she did what any normal horny teenager would do; make her sheets even stickier. She decided not to give a damn about her open windows, nobody would be able to hear her from where she was. And really, what do parents even think their kids do when they're hot, awake and in bed by themselves?

The same thing they do when they're hot, awake and _not_ in bed by themselves.

With her parents nowhere near her minds thoughts Santana gracefully pulled her laptop from the side table to the unoccupied side of her bed, blinked twice at the brightness her backlight afforded her, clicked the first porn site she found (pickiness wasn't really an attribute at a moment like this) and slid her hand down past her stomach into her panties.

Twenty minutes later when she'd worked herself over a second time with three fingers deep, a thumb precariously rubbing her clit and her other hand twisting her hard nipple she didn't bother to wonder why the only porn she even considered getting off to were lesbian videos.

X

"Come out tonight" Puck states more than asks through the speaker of her phone.

"Where?" she says just to pacify him.

"Azimio's having a party at his place while his parents are out for the weekend" he tells her and she knows he's rolling his eyes on the other side of the line too. It's the same story it's always been since they were 15. Parents go out. Jock holds party. Whole school gets invited. Jock gets in trouble. Same thing next week. She often wonders why parents are dumb enough to leave their kids in a house alone.

"Who's going?" she asks even though she already knows she's not going to go.

"Everyone" he sighs. She doesn't want to hear Puck sigh like it's a burden. She knows they're growing out of this. High school parties. McKinley. Lima. Although, she frequently asks herself why the fuck she had to put up with Ohio in the first place.

"I think I'll pass" they've been having this same boring conversation three times a week for the last month, neither budging from their roles. Neither really wanting the other to give in though either. Santana doesn't know when it all got so boring. Probably around the time Puck watched Quinn and Finn get back together a second time and realised he actually kind of loved his Baby-Momma. Funnily enough that was the same time Santana finally admitted that she may or may not love the other blonde girl in Glee Club.

"That's what you always say, you never come out anymore" he tells her. _And that's what he always says._ Santana wants to tell him that 'everyone' being there means that there's one important person who will be there too. Especially since Puck and Santana's 'everyone's' had changed from the Jocks and Cheerios to the Jocks, Cheerios _and_ the Glee Club. She knows that Puck wants to tell her that maybe she and Brittany in the same room could be a good thing. But Santana knows that she and Brittany _drunk_ in the same room is definitely not a good thing.

Santana also knows that the only reason Brittany has been turning up to every party this summer is in hopes of catching her elusive not-really-these-days best friend.

"That's because I'm busy" she replies as she picks her nails and dangles her feet over the edge of the pool.

"Doing what?" Puck asks and that's a first. Usually he just tells her 'suit yourself' or 'next time then, Lopez' but his question sounds more like curiosity instead of judgement so she decides to be honest with him.

"Playing _Resistance: Fall of Man_" she relinquishes, hardly even embarrassed.

"Video games?" he asks and again there's really no judgement.

"Mhmm" she hums in affirmation.

There's a pause. "Can I play too?"

Santana smiles.

X

Puck's been coming over and playing video games with her every day for the last week. They both ignore their phones as they go off and vibrate every few moments. Sometimes Santana pulls out her pipe and weed stash from behind fridge in the pool house bar, but only on days where Puck brings food. It's easier being around Puck when they aren't sleeping together and she admits it's good having someone nearby who can actually play a good round of Soul Calibur, particularly as that's been Santana's favourite game since she was twelve.

Everything is all going great until they pull out the Xbox 360 in temporary replacement of the PS3 and start playing Halo. That's when Puck makes the mistake of mentioning how great Artie is at this game too. Santana snaps that 'if Wheels is so fucking terrific at everything, why doesn't he go play with him instead, then?' and promptly kicks him out.

X

Her parents sit her down and tell her they think she should get a job, something that will get her out of the house. Santana wants to scoff and say she isn't really 'in the house' anymore and that they should've thought about this _before_ giving her that credit card last Christmas. Instead she timidly says she'll work on getting outside more often.

They nod with warm smiles, both kissing her lightly on the forehead before saying they'll be away for a few days. Her Dad on conference in Chicago and her Mum at a convention in DC. Santana wonders why they even care if she's in the house or not when they never are but doesn't say anything.

She joined a gym the next day, it's on the other side of town but it was the only one in Lima with nightly kickboxing classes and she needs to take her frustration out somewhere.

X

Puckerman shows up two days later looking suitably sorry and equally hopeful as he holds up the new _Resistance _game and asks if he can come in. She says yes because there's really only so many times a person can beat a computer without getting bored. Not to mention she's been absolutely dying to play that new game.

The Xbox lays unspoken and discarded on the floor beside them.

X

Taylor starts joining her and Puck's gaming marathons, they stop sleeping together but he still brings Breadsticks whenever he comes around. She and Puck have never been more thrilled with someone older than them. Apparently not only is Taylor good at real conversation, good at supplying decent food, but also really good at video games. Neither of them asks how he manages to do his job, hang out with them, hang out with his other friends and still get awesome grades in college. To be honest, neither of them really cares.

"How are you not getting fat from all this food?" Puck asks around another mouthful of pasta. "I'm starting to lose my abs"

There are Breadsticks take-out cartons scattered all around, and will probably lay there until Santana yells at them to clean it up. She's too content to do that right now though. Both her and Taylor shrug.

"I work out in the mornings. And swim" Taylor offers lightly.

"What about you, San? I was sure Coach Sylvester would've ingrained some sort of eternal distaste for food after all this time" Puck grumbles from his spot on the floor.

"I go to the gym" she mutters in a bored voice.

"When? You never leave the house" Puck states and she wants to chuck the controller at his head. Instead she tells him that she goes when they aren't here, like after they leave. Which is true, she hasn't missed a kickboxing class since she started two weeks ago.

She sees it coming before either of the boys even open their mouths, and in her head she'd said no a thousand times over. But when they ask "Can we come too?" she only says one word. It isn't no and sounds a lot like yes.

X

It becomes routine. Taylor cleaning the pool until Puck comes over. Playing a few rounds of games before making the Breadsticks call. Watching a couple episodes of The Real Housewives until Taylor comes back with the food. Ignoring the no-swimming-after-eating rule as they dive into the pool. Maybe smoking some weed and playing more games before heading to the gym.

Santana still kicks them both out before 10pm. That's been her only rule. She's tells them it's for their own good. And it is really, because nobody likes angry, bored, sexually frustrated Santana. The kickboxing is helping the anger. Puck and Taylor are mildly tending to the boredom. And her late night solo-sessions are just taking the edge off that sexual frustration.

They follow that rule without question. Because believe it or not, they sort of _do_ know what's good for them.

X

At some point, Quinn comes back to town. She's got short scruffy hair with pink highlights, piercings, a stupid tattoo and new (awful, but kinda hot) clothes. She's a lot more chilled out, much less of a prude, and doesn't crinkle her nose anymore when someone smokes. But basically her attitude is the same, as Quinn will always be Quinn, and that's cool because it's really the only part of Quinn that Santana actually liked.

Somehow, she becomes part of their routine. She's awful at Soul Calibur, but God is she good at anything racing related. Santana should've suspected from her extreme case of competitiveness. They keep her around because her weed is awesome and because it's Q, you know? The group is almost complete, but Santana shakes her head clear whenever she thinks about _that_.

She's glad when Puck and Quinn don't comment on the slight emptiness they know a bubbly blonde would fill. She can see it in their eyes, the way Puck scrunches his soda cans in his fist when he's finished and Quinn glances in annoyance from Santana to her phone. Silently demanding that she do something about it. Santana can tell Taylor is sensing that no matter what, something is always slightly off.

She ignores it all while chewing on a Breadstick.

X

It was Quinn and Taylor's idea to go out that day. Quinn wanted to get her nails done (never could take the preppy Princess out of her) and Taylor had told them of this Italian place that would blow Breadsticks to smithereens. They coaxed her and Puck out with the promise of stopping by the games store afterwards. Santana was sort of convinced at manicures and Italian food but new games were absolutely an added bonus.

So really, she can totally blame Quinn and Taylor for what almost went down that day. She won't though, because the moments when she started becoming bored with McKinley social life is about the same time she started to grow a heart and a conscience. So losing her nut wasn't anybody's fault but her own.

Nah fuck it, it was totally Artie's fault.

If he hadn't been at the same damn mall as them, in the same damn gaming store, with _her_ blonde pushing him around while he ignored her and fondled over _Halo_ instalments, everything would've been absolutely fucking fine.

See, it was a strange line for Santana, one she hadn't quite learnt how to walk yet. She thought it killed her to see Brittany happy with someone else, but why did it burn so much fucking worse when she was _unhappy_ with someone else? Santana had seen it as soon as she'd spotted her. The shining in her eyes not as bright as before, her slouched posture, the complete disinterest in her favourite song playing over the mall speakers.

Then it was clear as day to anyone who bothered to take notice (Quinn, Puck, Taylor) how both blue eyes and deep chocolate brown found each other across a packed room, and both simultaneously lit up and died at once. They were a standing a lot closer than any of them realised, which became evident as Santana watched, fury flaming in her gut, as Artie snapped his fingers to get Brittany's attention and snapped "Are you even listening to me? Jesus Brittany, stop being so vacant"

Vacant. That was just another way of calling her stupid. And since when did Artie think he was the Prize in that relationship and not the lucky Winner? Suddenly, Santana had a raging urge to both spit on him and kick his chair down the closest escalators. She opted for yelling.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Cripple?" her voice a lot stronger than it had been in months. The whole store went quiet and Artie finally saw her as she glared holes into his head.

"What? Uh, Santana-" he had the decency to look petrified and she sneered her very best Santana-smirk.

She took a step forward, ready to beat him with the nearest object, when suddenly her body was being lifted and slung over a strong shoulder as Puck quickly made to carry her out. She thrashed against him, screaming back to the store "You could at least treat her like the fucking gold she is, you stupid prick". There were tears streaming down her face as Puck silently carried her from the building. She didn't even care that people were staring. Soon, she had gone from clawing against Puck to gripping him desperately.

Quinn and Taylor were following behind them. Quinn was wearing a somewhat proud and approving face, though also shooting disgusted glares and longing glances back at the store. She missed Brittany. Fuck, they all did. Taylor was slowly starting to figure it all out.

"So that's her, huh?" he asked in a hushed tone he assumed Santana couldn't hear.

Quinn locked eyes with a sobbing Santana "Yeah. That's her"

Santana wondered, beneath her haze of despair and hot tears, if she knew this was coming. She probably did. And from the sure way Puck held her, and the looks in her friends' eyes they'd expected it too. She was finally having her breakdown.

X

When they'd gotten back home a half an hour later, Puck still carried her from the car to the batch. Bridal style this time. When they all stepped in through the door and she was settled to her feet, Quinn was the one to finally take notice of the raging need Santana had to break something. And quick. Like a genius, she silently picked up the closest thing she knew reminded Santana of Artie; the damn Xbox. It was hefty, but they passed it between each other like a pillow.

Gripping the machine in two hands, Santana stalked out of the pool house, raising the (brand new, but fuck it) piece of machinery above her head and smashing down against the hot concrete. She did the same with the controllers and games until all that was left was a mess of plastic, buttons, scratched CD's and internal chips. The remains were all tossed into the pool without a second glance.

When she was finished, feeling a lot better, she turned around to meet her friends staring back at her. Quinn shrugged, looking bored, Taylor staring longingly at the expensive, broken gaming console, Puck looking expectant. But also a little curious.

"Dude, do you think you'll get electrocuted when you clean that mess up later?" he asked, bumping his shoulder into Taylor's. Santana breathed in heavily. Then laughed. Loud, carefree, and slightly obnoxious. They all joined in. It was the first time three of the four there had laughed without hurting in a long time.

The dark haired girl wondered hopefully if this was the moment when she could finally start to _be _again.

X

Things are back to normal the next day. Only this time, Quinn brings over tequila. They're all pretty drunk by 6pm which would be really sad if they themselves weren't so sad in the first place. The golden liquid stops burning theirs throats after a while, the games become a little harder to conquer too. None of them are trying to sleep with each other. Which is hasn't happened since the first time they ever got drunk.

Somehow the tequila doesn't taste quite right on her tongue, and Santana should be able to piece that it's because she never has it unless she's licking salt off of Brittany's bare body. She might have realised this the moment the Jose appeared but ignored it and kept drinking.

Quinn doesn't get angry this time round. It's probably because she's been openly embracing that anger these days anyway. Taylor is a responsible drunk. Or maybe he isn't even drinking that much, which is obvious when he makes the drive home a few hours later. Puck crashes on her floor, Quinn on the other side of her bed.

Santana isn't hysterical, nor is she weepy. She only cries a little bit when she goes to the bathroom and nobody is looking. Which is a lot less tears than she's been shedding on sober days. She thinks of it as an accomplishment. Now it may or may not be a blurry memory or part drowsy dream, but images in her mind flash of her drunk-dialling Brittany's number and screaming 'I love you's' down the line.

X

There's a soft hand brushing back the hair from her face and a cool wash cloth wiping beneath her eyes. It wakes her but not enough to want to open her eyes. It's soothing and gentle, and she relaxes back and curls tighter into the plush toy that's in her arms.

A breathy chuckle comes from the same direction as the gentle hands and she tenses automatically. Santana doesn't want to open her eyes and see who's there but she has to check. Hesitantly, she inhales deeply through her nose and almost groans at what she finds. Strawberries and sunblock. The Summertime Brittany scent. It's so beautiful and sweet but even through her hungover state she knows the implications of that scent. It's too dangerous to do anything but slam her eyes shut and will it all away.

"Don't scrunch your eyes, silly. I'm trying to clean them" her voice is the best and worst thing she's heard in months.

"What are you doing here?" Santana asks through the throaty croak of her voice. She listens to Brittany's orders anyway.

Brittany doesn't answer for a while and when she does it's nothing to do with Santana's question. "Puck and Quinn are snuggling on the bed. She looks different these days"

"Q's had a makeover"

"It's hot" Brittany tells her and she smiles because she thought so too.

Santana hasn't opened her eyes yet and she doesn't want to. If she does this dream might end and she'll be alone again, or there might be someone there staring back at her. She isn't sure if she wants reality or fantasy right now. So she continues to walk that fine line.

"I knew I'd find you in the bathtub. You always end up here. Even if you pass out somewhere else, you'll wake up here. With Jerry" Brittany pokes the stuffed tiger in her arms and she squeezes him tighter to her chest. Her voice isn't as light as it could be. Santana wonders if Brittany hates that she knows everything about her just as much as she hates it.

"Is Taylor here?" Santana asks and she isn't sure why except she could really do with some Breadsticks.

"The guy who cleans the pool?" the blonde's voice comes through slightly gritted teeth. Santana feels like she should hush away her insecurities because she and Taylor aren't anything that should be worried about. Though that'd take too much effort right now so she nods.

"He's about Puck's height. Drives a Sedan. Always has Breadsticks" Santana explains.

"Oh that guy! I didn't know you had moved into the pool house and he found me sitting on the front step. He let me in but said he had somewhere to be. I left the Breadsticks on the counter" Brittany answers with a halfway relieved tone. It shouldn't matter to her if Santana and Taylor are anything (even though they aren't), because Brittany has a boyfriend. She shouldn't be allowed to sound so relieved. But mainly, Santana shouldn't allow herself to feel hopeful at the fact that she does.

Eventually the hand on her face stops moving before there's a sigh, some rustling around and the padding of leaving footsteps. Santana can hear the sound growing more distant, which is really saying something considering everything she hears at the moment is amplified by fifty. The thought of Brittany leaving is frightening so she opens her eyes, wills her drained and stiff body out of the bathtub and stumbles towards the fading sound. She finds the back of a gorgeous blonde head standing out beside the pool. Santana really wishes two things at this moment; one, that she didn't look like a hungover mess. Two, that she hadn't taken her contacts out before crying last night.

When she finally reaches Brittany's side the blonde keeps staring straight out across the view Santana's hillside house offers her. Santana keeps her blurry vision on Brittany's face. Even though the sight is fuzzy Santana thinks it's still the most gorgeous thing she's seen in a long while.

"I thought we could eat the food inside? It smells like alcohol in the pool house" Brittany says and Santana has to agree that even she'd noticed that. She moves her eyes away from Brittany's lips and to the brown take-out Breadsticks bag in her arms. She doesn't say anything, just nods, and then Brittany's walking them both into the house through the French doors that never seem to be locked. She parks Santana on the couch before going to the kitchen, grabbing two forks and joining her again. She's also got Santana's back-up glasses that are always stashed away in one of the kitchen draws and Santana doesn't break the silence to say thank you but really, she doesn't have to. Those two have been speaking without words since they were children.

They've been sitting there and silently eating for the last twenty minutes with the TV on the wall playing something Brittany only pretends to watch. Santana doesn't bother pretending as she sits with her back to the arm of the couch, knees to her chest where her food is perched, and whole body facing Brittany's. She's been blatantly staring ever since she opened her eyes, taking in the sight of this girl in front of her. And revels in it just because she can.

To be honest, she isn't sure yet if she is actually awake or not. And really, can you blame her? Brittany, Breadsticks and no Artie? That's like the best dream ever. However, there are these little nuances that Santana notes would never be present in a good dream. Like the over-exhausted slouch to Brittany's body. It's not the type of exhaustion the Latina prefers, the post-crazy-animal-sex exhaustion with a heaving chest and glorious sheen of sweat. _So not the time to be thinking about that!_ This is a mental and emotional exhaustion, a type that sleep doesn't fix. Also, there's an ever present crease in Brittany's brow that the blonde doesn't even bother hiding.

Santana doesn't like what she's seeing here, or really the lack-of. Because this is like a watered down, downhearted version of her Brittany and she totally just wants to put the pad of her thumb to those worry lines and smooth them away. So she does. One thing that hasn't changed is how smooth Brittany's skin is beneath her fingers. It's also familiar how Brittany's eyes flutter shut at the motion. Santana's hand traces up to her forehead, down her temple and to her cheek. She's about to move it because they're not supposed to be doing things like this anymore but as soon as she even thinks about removing the contact Brittany's hand comes up to hold it there.

Suddenly blue eyes are open and they're just staring at each other again, equally this time. "What have you been thinking about?" Santana says quietly. She can see that whatever Brittany's been trying to sort through has been an ongoing struggle for a while now.

"You" Brittany answers. Santana's heart aches, she doesn't want to be the reason Brittany looks so drained. Brittany, being Brittany, notices and explains further "Living without you"

Exhaling a heavy breath, Santana nods. She understands that. Suddenly, she realises that the part of her that's always frightened of staring too long at Brittany, or being caught showing how deep the feelings lie isn't present anymore. Neither is really sure what it is, but something has definitely changed. If they had bothered to ask, then Quinn would tell them it's that they'd finally stopped being stubborn idiots.

Santana has a feeling that she's not really scared of what people think anymore. She reasons that the thought of trying to survive without Brittany for the rest of her life is scarier than anything the population of Lima has to offer. But she also knows that Puck and Quinn have known about Santana_and_Brittany since the moment they became just that. And if they know, then anyone else who truly matters had probably figured it out too, so what does it matter? And really, what the hell is McKinley's social life without the four of them anyway? Nothing. And they all know that.

"We're hopeless" Santana laughs and is happy when the sound produces a soft smile from her counterpart. She moves back and away now, so she has enough space to see Brittany properly again.

"I'm not going to live without you Santana" Brittany tells her and Santana doesn't respond because she already _knows_ this. She knows that it isn't really a possibility and just the thought of it had reduced Santana to a passive ball of empty and Brittany into a brooding body of heavy thoughts and dead eyes.

"Okay" Santana smiles simply "When you're ready Britt"

Brittany nods. The action is strong and determined. Then they both turn back to the early morning cartoon on the screen. Brittany actually watching it this time, Santana still watching Brittany but that's what she's always done anyway. Already, with just an hour within the same vicinity as each other, the pair are more themselves than they have been all summer.

Somewhere during the middle of the third cartoon Santana's late night begins to catch up. Her eyes start drooping and her breathing evens out until she catches herself falling and snaps out of it. After the fifth time Brittany just shakes her head with a chuckle and takes Santana's half-eaten Breadsticks to place on the table. "Go to sleep, San"

"No" Santana says stubbornly. She wants to keep staring at Brittany. She's well aware that when she wakes up Brittany won't be here, and she's okay with that because Brittany will come back. She just doesn't want this moment to end, is all.

She must've said that last bit out loud because Brittany's smile is bigger this time, it reaches her eyes and she tells her "We'll have more of these moments another time"

Santana leans back at the blonde's insistence, her eyes sliding shut as Brittany's lips place butterfly kisses on each lid. "And sexy moments too?" she asks

Brittany's laugh is throaty this time and she can feel it shaking through her as she reaches over the couch to place a blanket over Santana's body. "Yes, San. Sexy moments too"

With that in mind, Santana is content to fall asleep.

X

When she wakes up an hour later. The dirty containers that were previously on her coffee table have been cleared and replaced with a note written in Brittany's handwriting:

_San, _

_We've taken so long to finally be us and now I need you wait just a tiny bit longer. _

_Things need to be ended with Artie properly, it's only fair. Thank you for sticking up for me before. You're gold too._

_Puck and Quinn should be warned that we'll be taking back that bed soon. They can sleep in the bath. _

_Go outside San, your skin isn't dark enough for summer. _

_I hope you had a good sleep. I'll see you soon baby._

_-Britt x_

Santana is still grinning like an idiot when she steps, freshly showered, into the pool house. Quinn is popping open a bottle of ibuprofen and Puck is lounging around in the mess they hadn't bothered to clean for a week. It's dark in there and still smells like a brewery so Santana saunters up to the windows and rips the curtains open, thrusting the glass panes out wide.

"Santana-" Puck starts but she just cuts him off. Literally, like, with a kick in the leg. But it's playful because nothing could really kill her mood today.

"Clean up bitches! We're going to the beach" she tells them. Each one of them notices that this is the most alive her voice has been in months and even the way she's standing screams 'Santana's back bitch!'.

"The closest beach is five hours away" Puck replies dumbly

"Well then I guess we're making a road trip out of it then, huh?" Santana smirks because God it's awesome to feel something other than dreary heart ache. Her smirk deepens when she sees the way Puck's eyes light up at her suggestion. It isn't long before he's leapt up and begun cleaning like a madman.

"What's gotten into you?" Quinn asks from behind the bar. Santana prances (yes, _prances_) up to the scruffy blonde and throws the note she's had held tightly in her palm down on the counter in front of Quinn. Q makes light work reading it and when she looks back up at Santana, she rolls her eyes (because _duh, what else would it be?_) and smiles all proud happiness.

Once everything is done Puck drives home to get clothes and, Quinn hopes, to buy some bacon from the store on his way. Q walks the two houses down the street back to her home and comes back twenty minutes later with a packed duffle from the time they were on the Cheerios. It looks like she took a lot of time to fiercely defile it. Puck is back ten minutes after her and he parks his truck in the three-car garage since they're taking Santana's car. They invite Taylor who shows up fifteen minutes later with a surfboard. Finally, an hour after she'd decided they were going to the beach, they are all in her car and she's happily driving away.

When they stop at the gas station everyone gives her strange looks because she hasn't used this car since the day before her parents filled it up for her last week. She ignores their questions and runs inside. Less than a minute later she's back with a roll of tape and a pack of orange tic-tac's. Quinn sees the tic-tac container and understands immediately, raising that perfect damn eyebrow all smug and knowingly.

"Just one last stop and then we're gone guys" Santana informs them. Quinn has gone back to looking suitably bored. Puck recognises the street they're driving down and almost jumps in his seat with excitement, moving to grip the back of Santana's chair happily. She shakes her head at him and he shrugs a little disappointedly. Taylor, as per usual, looks lost but like he doesn't really mind not being clued in.

The car pulls up on the curb outside of Brittany's house. Santana jumps out of the car, taking a pen, paper and her store-bought items with her. Standing at the front door she already knows nobody is home because the windows are shut. Windows are never shut when a Pierce is in the house. That's kind of perfect though as she takes the tic-tac's and tapes them to the wood of the door. She's giddy with the image of how Brittany will totally get a kick out of this. She was practically obsessed with the movie _Juno_ for months. When she's done, she writes out a note and sticks it between that miniscule space between the tic-tac's and the door.

_B,_

_We're taking a trip to the beach. I needs to get my summer tan on. Be back tomorrow afternoon._

_I'll be thinking of you until I see you again. I'll wait as long as you need. Just… don't take too long (:_

_Thank you for looking after me this morning. My sleep was amazing._

_I hope you like the tic-tac's. I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else, but you. _

_Keep calling me baby. It's hot._

_-S x_

"Lopez stop getting you're fluff on, the beach is waiting! WHOOO!" Puck's obnoxious cry is coming from the car. Actually, Santana is surprised she can even hear him over how loud they'd turned up her car's stereo system. Bounding back down the steps two at a time, she couldn't wipe the smile off her face if she tried.

X

They arrive back home late the next afternoon and pass straight out on the closest soft surface they can find. Santana is halfway to that pristine, dark golden skin she always sports in the summer break. Sadly enough for Quinn, with her porcelain alabaster features, returns with a mild case of sunburn that Santana won't stop trying to slap at any chance she can get. Puck and Taylor found that funny until they were shot the infamous HBIC glare. Now Taylor just snickers when Quinn isn't looking. Puck stopped altogether.

The drive back took a lot out of them and they slept right through to the morning.

X

For the next two days they spend most of their time outside in the pool, lying beside the pool, and if you're Puck and Santana, occasionally gathering bundles of leaves and chucking them into the water because now that Taylor's around they aren't the ones being made to clean the pool. They also drag out the timeless classic _DanceDanceRevolution _and _Everybody Dance_ and do some insane amount of hours of practising.

They know it's useless to try and prepare. Brittany is just going to wipe the floor with them. It's still fun to fool themselves into thinking they have a chance though. Quinn suggests that maybe they should get Mike to teach them some moves. Puck says he likes the thought, but prefers the idea of seeing the outcome of Mike vs. Brittany. Santana insists that her Brittany would still win.

Okay, maybe she's bias. Whatever.

X

It's mid-morning on the third day since they got back from the beach when there's the sound of a dirtbike's engine roaring up the street. Puck fistpumps the air, Santana grins like a dumb monkey, and Quinn playfully rolls her eyes at both of them. They're all thinking '_finally'_, except for Taylor who is busy with the sixth batch of leaves that'd been dumped in the pool. Two seconds later a blue Yamaha Motocross Bike is coming to a stop in the courtyard between the pool and the house and Brittany is jumping off it.

She's wearing a white tank top that shows off the bright bikini underneath, ripped jean shorts, dirty chucks and a smile to melt hearts. Brittany flicks strays of blonde hair from her face and pulls her sunglasses to the top of her head. All Santana's mind has registered is _sexy_. Quinn grumbles disapprovingly "She didn't even wear a helmet. Does she _want_ to crash and die?"

Each step Brittany takes further away from her bike and closer to them is like slow motion. Some sort of goddess supermodel walk down a brick paved runway. It makes Santana's heart pound a quickening pace, her skin feel intensely more flushed, and her fingers itch with the need to touch bare skin and probably plunge a couple fingers deep. The Latina is super proud of her restraint in not jumping Brittany right fucking now.

Yepp, Santana's totally gay. Like people ever believed she wasn't.

"So," Brittany chirps when she's standing over their tanning bodies "I heard this was the place to be this summer"

It's a silent moment where Santana smiles and Brittany winks at her before Puck is up and gathering their missing piece into a tight bear hug. He's muttering things like "Welcome back, Britts" and "Santana's no fun without you".

"Put her back down, Noah" Santana snaps in irritation. He's blocking her view of Brittany.

"Britt, you really shouldn't be driving that bike dressed like that. You'll burn yourself on the piping" Quinn scolds like the Mother Hen she always is.

"Hm, I dunno Q. I think I'm alright" Brittany twists, assessing her body for non-existent imperfections "What do you think, San? Are my legs alright?"

It's only Santana that picks up on the filthy undertone of Brittany's voice as she asks the question. It's not fair to ask when she's turned her body around so Santana has an amazing view of her the back of her legs and ass. "They look pretty alright to me Britt-Britt" Santana replies in the same sweet tone Brittany had masked her hot intentions with.

"No burns?" Brittany presses on. _No burns but totally smokin'._ She wants Santana to cave if the look in her bright eyes is anything to go by.

"Nope" Santana says with a 'pop'.

"Nothing wrong with them?" the blonde insists. _Only that they're not wrapped around my body._

"Absolutely nothing" Santana assures her, voice an octave lower and huskier than before.

Brittany flashes a short, seductive smile in recognition of the Latina's tone. Speaking just as slow and lowly Brittany asks her "Are you sure, _baby?_"

And suddenly there's that aching pulse between her legs that hasn't been properly itched in like, how long now? 8 and a half months. Santana's on her feet in moments. "You all need to go"

"What? But Brittany just got here!" Puck says in outrage. Quinn wrinkles her nose because there's nothing subtle about them.

"Exactly" Santana replies, reaching for a smug Brittany's hand and dragging her away.

"Where do you expect us to go?" Quinn questions. She sort of has a point. It's not like she, Taylor and Puck have been anywhere but here for weeks.

"I don't care. Now leave. Go" She shouts over her shoulder from the pool house steps.

"My keys are in there!" Taylor whines.

"Just fuck off" Santana demands as they both step into the pool house and slam the door shut. They can hear Brittany giggle through a sentence close to 'They can fuck off, and I can fuck you'.

Quinn has to forcibly push Taylor and Puck out the gate.

X

It's three hours later when Quinn decides it's safe enough to return to Santana's. The pink-tinged blonde slowly opens the gate, slapping away Puck and Taylor's eager and desperately hopeful attempts to bust right in. They edge towards the pool house and all freeze when they hear the noises from within.

"San, go faster" Brittany's voice cries out.

"_Ugh_" comes Santana's frustrated reply

"Move like this" Brittany's breathless tone instructs

"_God_ Brittany. No fair!" the Latina groans

It's then that Puck jumps past Quinn's efforts to push him back and he barges through the door with a loud 'Aha!' Quinn and Taylor have to laugh at Puck's expression when all their faced with is the sight of Brittany and Santana playing _DanceDanceRevolution_. Or, more realistically, Brittany completely _schooling_ Santana at the game.

Puck grunt's disappointedly and Quinn sighs a breath of relief, because she's accidently walked in on (and woken up to) the sight of her best friend's going at it before. And it's an image she's yet to learn how to burn from her mind. Brittany looks up with a happy smile and a wave, her body still fluidly owning the moves on the screen while Santana ignores them completely, putting every ounce of concentration she has into winning.

She doesn't win. Not that the three lounging around the room expected her to. Even Taylor had to admit that while Santana could kick his ass any day at dancing, she didn't have a prayer at beating this blonde. The dark haired girl huffs and goes to slump down into the nearest chair when Brittany pecks her lips saying 'Doesn't matter babe. You still looked hot'. Instead she floats down into her seat with a glazed expression.

It's two hours later, when the sun has well and truly gone down and Brittany has thoroughly and repetitively beaten all three of the people in the room that Puck picks up his phone and steps outside, taking Santana with him.

"What are they up to?" Taylor questions curiously

"Probably calling Mike. Those two can't stand to watch someone beat them too often" Brittany laughs

"You gonna let Mike win this time?" Quinn asks from behind her examination of her nails

"Maybe" Brittany shrugs "Depends on how desperately frustrated they become"

"And people think Santana is the evil one" Quinn chuckles in amusement. Brittany just smirks right back.

"We missed you Britt" Q softly and reverently says when Taylor gets up to use the bathroom. Her smokey tone is lighter than it's been in all summer and both she and Brittany sigh happily.

"I missed you all too. Trust me, I'm never leaving again" Brittany replies, her blue eyes fixed on the smaller silhouette beyond the glass doors.

"None of us are. Well, maybe to get the hell out of Ohio" Quinn adds thoughtfully. Brittany has to laugh because that dream is what attracted her to them in the first place.

"That sounds like a plan" Brittany beams.

Just then Santana and Puck re-enter the batch, Pucks eyes seeking out Quinn's mop of messy blonde-pink hair, Santana's gaze hungrily resting on her sweaty blonde dancer. They both look at the blondes like they're early Christmas gifts that'll never grow boring. Quinn, typically, rolls her eyes in attempt not to blush. Brittany beams back at her Latina, happy to be able to just _look_ at each other. Freely. Unhindered. Lovingly.

"Gross. Puckerman, take your couple sap outside. It makes me want to gag" Taylor mutters as he waltzes back in.

Puck scoffed "And what about those two?" he points to Brittany and Santana who are still peacefully unfazed by anything besides themselves "They're ten times worse than anyone in this town!"

"But they're hotter than you, so it doesn't matter" Taylor reasons. Quinn and Brittany's noses scrunch in distaste.

Santana flips him the bird as Brittany leans in to whisper in her ear "I'm sure that's not the first time a boy has made him gag"

The Latina's laugh is loud and barked. She has to cough to cover giggles but fails miserably when Brittany looks at her mischievously, a smirk tugging at her glossed lips. Santana pulls her into her arms, breathing her in. Still chuckling, she says "Jesus, I knew there was a reason I loved you"


End file.
